Partner To Be
by ILuvMoony
Summary: When Dumbledore assigns a summer project, Lily gets paired up with her least favorite person, or so she thinks. LJ
1. Wishful Thinking

**Friday, June 18, 1976**

Dear Diary,

This summer is definitely not turning out the way I imagined. When Emmeline, Dorcas, Marlene, and I sat by the lake, unwinding after an exam, we were planning for trips to the beach in Majorca and long, crazy nights at the discos in London.

I was not at all expecting for Professor Dumbledore to spring a Transfiguration project on us. Isn't all the stress from exams enough? Why should we even have summer work?

Worst of all, though, is the fact that this summer project involves partners. Not that having partners is bad, necessarily. I wouldn't have minded if Dorcas and I could have wrote an essay together while we sat in front of Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop in Diagon Alley. That actually conjures quite a nice scene in my head.

Dorcas and I sitting under a red and white striped umbrella, nursing root beer floats and wearing flip-flops. Occasionally jotting down a sentence on our loose-leaf paper to make it look like we're working, when really we're trying to scout out the shoppers walking past for hot guys our age.

No, all of that is apparently out of the question. There will be no ice cream parlors, no scouting for hot guys, and no red and white umbrellas.

Dumbledore picked our partners for us.

Dumbledore picked our partners for us.

Dumbledore picked our partners for us.

Now, he says it was random and that he picked out of a hat. However, I don't believe that for a second. If it was random, then I could have been paired up with virtually anyone. I could be working with Severus Snape or Gilderoy Lockhart. Both of those sound pretty good compared to my current partner.

I have been assigned to complete a project with James Potter.


	2. Letters

A/n: Thanks so much, frecklednproud, for pointing out about my brain fart with the dates. Can't believe I missed that. :P   
Thursday, July 1, 1976 

Dear Diary,

I wonder how long I can procrastinate on this project.

Well, I'm actually not procrastinating. I was not made a prefect for nothing. I am a good student- a great one in fact. And that is why I am giving James Potter a few weeks off before I decide to get started on this project.

I'm sure he's not even thinking about it. He's probably running around his neighborhood with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, pulling more immature pranks. God, they all think they are so funny.

Fine, I admit it, diary. I'm scared to send an owl to James Potter and ask him to work with me.

But I am going to, right now. As soon as I am done writing this sentence, I will start a letter to him. As soon as possible, we will be writing a four-foot long essay on 'The Benefits of Horcruxes'.

_Dear James._

_Even though you're probably having too much fun doing something really lame like putting jelly in someone's shoes, I think I have to remind you that some of us students like to pass and would enjoy beginning to work on Transfiguration projects._

_Lily Evans_

Bloody hell, no! I can't send him that. I sound like a pricky bitch. I can't sound like a pricky bitch. Let's try again.

_Dear James,_

_I would find it most stupendous if we could get together to work on our Transfiguration project. Please send me a return owl with dates when you are free to get together._

_Yours,_

_Lily Evans_

Damn, what kind of nerd am I? I can't send him that either.

_James,_

_We have about two months left to work on that Transfiguration project. We should probably get together sometime soon. Can you owl me back and tell me when you're free? Thanks. –Lily_

There, I guess that will have to do. I don't sound too pricky, I don't sound to friendly, I don't sound too uptight.

Or maybe I do.

Oh, forget this. I'm mailing this letter right now.

**Saturday, July 3, 1976**

Dear Diary,

I was sitting outside on the back patio this afternoon, trying to get a tan. I mean, even if I'm not going to Majorca with the girls, I should at least go back to school with a slight golden glow.

Then, the elderly women next door starts to have a heart attack. She is screaming and carrying on about something or other. At first I thought it was something about her garden; she's always out there watering her plants and singing to them.

Then I see that an overly large, black owl is swooping around her property.

And all I can think is, 'I should have known'. It's not my fault, though. I completely forgot James had such a large owl; an owl that is as prone to mischief as he is himself. So I run next door, pick up neighbor-lady's garden hoe, and start whacking James' owl until it drops my letter.

Then I give the neighbor-lady a bright smile, hope she forgets that she saw any of that, and dart back onto my lawn chair.

I rip open the envelope and spread out the letter, recognizing James' scrawl immediately.

_My dearest Lily,_

_I would love to come over to your house to work on the project. How does next Tuesday sound? _

_Yours,_

_James_

Stop right there. When did I invite James Potter to my house? I simply asked him when he would like to work on the project. I did not invite his scummy self into my home.

I can picture it now.

Petunia and Vernon on the couch in the sitting room, watching a movie. Vernon holding Petunia's hand and whispering some sort of garbage in her ear, just to hear her make that god-awful high-pitched giggle she does when she thinks she's being flirty. Mom and Dad in the kitchen, preparing dinner and going through the evening news. James barging through the front door with a bag full of tricks, transfiguring the remote control into a toad and setting the stove on fire.

And where does that leave the family now? Petunia will be washing her hands after having touched a toad and my family will starve one night due to the fact that our stove will be charred to ash.

I hate James Potter.

Sunday, July 4, 1976 

Dear Diary,

Remind me never again to leave my mail on the kitchen counter. Mother was making dinner last night when she came across my letter from James.

All through dinner she was carrying on about how sweet James sounds and how she would love to have him over for dinner on Tuesday. She thinks it will be a perfect opportunity for us to work on the project. And besides, she keeps on telling me, Petunia is with Vernon, when am I going to start bringing boys back to the house?

Bloody hell. She thinks James Potter and I might be romantically involved.

That would involve James holding my hand and James whispering sweet nothings in my ear, and James Potter snogging me. Oh my Lord, did I just think about James Potter kissing me! I am officially scarred for life. I cannot believe that occurred to me. I think I need to take a very long shower right now.

The worst part is, though, that now I have to tell James that he is, in fact, welcome at my house.

_Dear James,_

_Tuesday is fine. You can come over around three o'clock if you like and stay for dinner, also. I live just outside of London, it's your second right after you get through muggle London._

_By the way, James, I'm reminding you now that my family and my neighbors are muggles. If you do anything to torment or disturb them, I will hex you worse than you will ever imagine. _

_Looking forward to seeing you. –Lily_

There. That should be good enough.


	3. Making Yourself At Home

Tuesday, July 6, 1976 

Dear Diary,

James just left. I cannot believe I am still breathing. I cannot believe my whole family is still breathing, for that matter.

Well, let me go back and explain everything in detail.

James arrived at the front door at exactly three o'clock this afternoon. Thankfully, there was no dragon parked on my front lawn or any magical evidence whatsoever. He even tried to dress like a muggle. He looked rather convincing, actually, in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt.

I opened the door to find him on the front stoop, pushing up his glasses and holding two bouquets of flowers. Lilies. I'm not kidding- the boy had lilies with him.

Great, now Mother will definitely believe we are not dating. Which we aren't . Not at all. James Potter knows how I feel about him; he is just a slimy git.

I took the flowers from him, with a rather forced smile. I should give myself credit for not mentioning anything rude. I definitely have more class than that, at least.

We walked past the sitting room, when James must have saw Petunia in there with Vernon. James halted slightly, and I had to turn around to see what was the matter with him.

"What is it?" I asked, looking at him suspiciously.

"You have a sister?" he questioned.

I nodded. "That's Petunia."

Without another word, he conjured up another bouquet of lilies and walked over to Petunia, delivering them to her with a smile, kissing her hand lightly.

Bad move. Without question, that was a definite bad move.

Vernon stood up, and let me tell you, whenever he moves, the whole house shakes. Petunia tells me that his weight is a good thing, that he is a boxing champion. That is a load of codswallop.

Vernon is just terrifyingly obese. His face was turning purple and this completely unattractive vein was popping out of his forehead. He looked livid, I swear.

"What did you just give my girlfriend?" he snarled, staring James in the eye.

James was remarkably brave. If I was in his position, I would have left the house and fled. "A housewarming gift, for allowing me to spend the afternoon to work on a project. I hope we don't make too much noise."

And with that, James walked away.

It was a tad disappointing. Vernon didn't sit on James, no magic was performed. But still, it was better than a normal afternoon of listening to Vernon and Petunia snog on the couch.

James followed me to the kitchen, where I put the flowers in vases. I was hoping that Mother wouldn't notice the flowers until it was too late, but she walked in just as I was filling the vases with water.

"Oh my, where did these come from?" she asked, nosily. Honestly, her footsteps doubled when she saw that James brought flowers. She crossed the room in a nanosecond.

"James brought them." I said, trying to sound completely disinterested.

"Well wasn't that sweet!" my mother replied, giving James a nice smile. "James, dear, do you like pot roast? What would you like to have for dinner? You are staying of course, right?"

James nodded. "Yes, pot roast would be fine. Thank you so much."

"We're going upstairs." I informed my mother, dragging James by the wrist.

When we were securely locked in my bedroom, far away from the rest of my family who thought James was a little angel, I faced him.

"What was that all about!" I spat at him.

"What was what all about? By the way, nice room, Evans." he responded, looking around my room.

Ugh, apparently Vernon is the only person who understands how awful this boy is.

"Fine, ignore the fact that you just brought me flowers." I told him.

"Oh, anything for you, Lily."

I wanted to choke. I wanted to just choke and die. Visions of Dorcas and I at the ice cream parlor reappeared in my mind's eye.

"Let's just work on this project, all right?" I suggested, pulling out my textbook.

James nodded.

The rest of the afternoon wasn't too bad. James seemed relatively normal, throwing out ideas and facts he was finding in his textbook while I scribbled them down. It was actually, although I hate to admit this, sort of fun.

James and I worked well together. The paper was probably going to be much better than anything I ever wrote with Marlene or Emmeline. Not that I had a good time or anything. I still wish I was in Majorca wearing a new pair of sunglasses, but still.

Then it was time for dinner.

James and I headed for the dining room. We hardly ever eat in the dining room. I mean, Vernon has stayed for dinner so many times, we don't even try to impress him anymore. He has eaten Chinese food at our tiny kitchen table.

This was all obviously for my boyfriend. James, who wasn't even my boyfriend. Mother had set the good china. James Potter did not deserve our good china. Great Aunt Gerta, maybe. But not James.

"I'll go get some things from the kitchen." I said, excusing myself from the scene.

James stood up, ready to trail after me like he had all afternoon.

"No, sit down, sit down. You're a guest!" my father told him, in a jolly tone.

I shut my eyes tight as I headed into the kitchen. What was my father going to ask James about? They obviously couldn't discuss magic- Vernon was present. Petunia's boyfriend had no idea where I went to school or the fact that I was a witch. I grabbed a bowl filled with creamy, mashed potatoes and headed back into the dining room.

"I didn't know your boyfriend here was captain of the school team!" Daddy said as soon as I reentered the room.

I sighed, heavily. Loudly. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "He is NOT my boyfriend. Just my partner for this project."

Daddy chuckled and winked at James, who politely smiled back. This was a new side of James. He wasn't making snide comments that were slightly insulting. He hadn't cursed anybody, not even Vernon. If this was Hogwarts, Sirius Black and James would have been laughing and hexing Vernon left and right.

"So, James, how long have you and Lily been dating?" my mother asked James as soon as everyone had been served.

"Oh, well, I've been trying to get her to go out with me since the end of our third year." He responded.

"And we are still NOT dating." I cut in, sending dirty looks into my pot roast.

"Lily, do not use that tone at the table. It is not acceptable."

Great. I got lectured at the dinner table. That comment made me sound like I was six, not almost sixteen. James is going to have so much dirt on me when we go back to Hogwarts in September. He is going to tell everyone about the hunk of lard my sister is dating and the fact that my parents are so overprotective of me, and that I even have a stuffed unicorn sitting on my bed.

WHY IN THE WORLD DID I NOT THINK TO PUT THAT UNICORN IN THE CLOSET BEFORE JAMES CAME OVER!

"—Lily, are you listening to me?" Dad asked, looking over at me oddly.

I am such a spaz. I had stopped paying attention to dinner conversation.

"Um, what?" I asked.

"We were just saying how good of an idea it sounds for James to come over next week, also. I'm sure there is much work left to do on the project and James can go to the carnival with you that night."

"The carnival? Are you serious?" I responded.

Nobody my age goes to the carnival. The carnival is a dinky assortment of cotton candy stands and rides that the nearby grammar school sponsors every summer. By the time I was nine, I realized it wasn't too much fun.

"We are not going to the carnival."

Mother looked at me funny. "James just said he would love to go."

I sent James a look. A look that could have burned his eyes out. If magic was allowed outside of school, I would have hexed him nonverbally.

"Did you, then, James?"

He nodded, swallowed a mouthful of his pot roast and then said, "I think it sounds like fun. We should go, Lily."

"Fine, we'll go."

The rest of the meal was rather uneventful. I'm pretty sure Petunia and Vernon were playing footsie under the table, but that's actually become a mealtime staple at the Evans household.

After the meal, and dessert—my mother never makes dessert; another sign that she was going out of her way for James—the two of us were outside on the front stoop.

"What are you hanging around for? I'm walking you out. That means that you should be leaving, and I should be going outside and trying to repair the life that has now been ripped into shreds."

James snickered. "Oh, it wasn't that bad."

"My family thinks I am dating you. What could be worse?" I responded, looking him dead in the eyes.

"You could be dating Snape." He shot back.

"I believe I told you in our fifth year that I would rather date Snape."

James cast his eyes downward.

"I was just trying to be a good houseguest. If you want, I can finish the project alone and pretend I have sudden plans the week of the carnival."

My expression softened. "No, it's okay. We should go. I wouldn't want you to do all the work for this project anyways."

James looked up, gave a half-smile and then stood up from where he was sitting on my stoop.

"See you next Thursday." He told me.

I nodded, and before I could turn back to the house, James had pulled me close and given me a small kiss on the cheek.

James' lips touched my face. He kissed me. He didn't even try to grope me like I expected he would if we were back at school. Could it be that James Potter has an ounce of class? Maybe there is an entire side of James that I have never seen when he's not with his group of marauding friends?

The worst part of it is, though, that I didn't mind. I didn't slap him, didn't scream at him. I sort of just smiled and waved slightly as he walked down the street.

I'm probably still in shock or something. That has to be it.


	4. Blondes or Brunettes?

Thursday, July 8, 1976 

Dear Diary,

How long does it take for shock to wear off? It's been two days since James kissed me. And I'm still thinking about it.

I don't know why I'm freaking out so much over this. He's done worse things to me. I think, if I remember correctly, he slapped my rear at the Fourth Year Yule Ball. But that didn't count, because he was smiling cheekily as he did it.

This time, he looked so downtrodden when I told him he wrecked my life. He actually seemed like he was trying to impress my family. He has no reason to. I was expecting him to set my stove on fire. And my stove is still in one piece.

And for some reason, I'm looking forward to next week. Exactly one week from today, James will be back at my house and we will be going to this carnival. I wonder if James has ever been to a carnival. I mean, witches and wizards have much better things to do with their time then ride around in circles on electric bumper cars.

I bet James is going to get to this fair, take one look at the Tilt-A-Whirl, and wonder why he isn't hanging out with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. He's going to be so bored. He's going to think I'm boring.

I know he already thinks I'm a dork who fights with her parents and sleeps with stuffed unicorns on her bed. Now he's going to think I don't know how to have fun.

Diary, why in the name of Merlin am I thinking about all this? I hate James Potter, I hate him. He deserves to have an awful time this summer. It can be revenge for him pushing me into the lake in our first year.

Sunday, July 11, 1976 

Dear Diary,

I have come to the conclusion that I am thinking too much about James Potter. Flipping through the last few entries in my diary, I haven't even mentioned Dorcas, Emmeline, or Marlene. Hell, I haven't even written to them in a few days. They must think I've died from lack of shopping. I haven't been to Diagon Alley in at least a week.

I'm going to hide my diary under my bed and write them all wonderfully long letters about everything I've been up to lately. I can't wait to hear about what they're doing. It can take my mind off of… him. Yes, you know- him. I'm not going to say his name anymore.

Sunday, July 11, 1976- Later 

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to write about besides James Potter. This must be a bad thing.

Tuesday, July 13, 1976 

Dear Diary,

Hiding my own diary was the crummiest idea I have ever come up with. I remember exactly where I hid it. And all day yesterday I just stared at my bed sheets and thought about writing in here.

Nothing good is even happening. I have virtually nothing to write about. It's not like I'm going on a date and need to plan my outfit or anyth—

Holy shit. What am I going to wear when I go to the carnival!

I only have two days to plan an outfit. What if I can't find anything to wear and I have to go shopping? Why did I not think of this ahead of time?

There is nothing good in my closet. I wonder if I should wear a skirt or shorts. Shorts definitely don't seem like date-wear, as my girls and I like to call it. But skirts can give off the wrong impression. And do I want to give James Potter a look at my legs?

I don't want to wear pants, though. It is much too hot in the middle of July to wear pants out. Hmm… I'll just wear my capris. Yes! If I pair my Capri pants with a nice top, it will be a good look. Maybe I can even color-coordinate my flip-flops to match.

Why am I getting dressed up for James Potter? He's only going to tease me about how I thought it was a date, anyways. And it's not. It's my parents trying to get me a date because they think I am an ugly girl who nobody will ever want to marry.

And James Potter knows that, too. Ugh, what can I do about my hair before Thursday? Should I dye it? I always hated having red hair. I have that awful splash of freckles across my nose, too. But maybe I can hide my freckles with some powder. I can borrow from Petunia; she has enough to share.

But back to the hair. I wonder if I would look better as a blonde or a brunette. What color was the hair of James' last girlfriend before me? I should dye my hair that color.

Ugh, why am I going through all this trouble? I'm getting myself a new book and I'm going to sit out on the back patio and read.

Wednesday, July 14, 1976 

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow is D-Day. My hair is still red.


	5. D Day

A/n: Just wanted to say I'm sorry that some of the dates are bolded in some chapters and some of them aren't. I did the exact same thing for all the chapters- I don't know what the problem is!   
Thursday, July 15, 1976 

Dear Diary,

This day might go down in history as being one of the best days in the history of my existence. Maybe I should buy myself an expensive bookmark and put it in this book. Maybe I should save this leather-bound notebook and put it in a safe somewhere. I might want to remember this night for the rest of my life.

Anyways, James was coming over around four o'clock to work on the project a bit. I wound up wearing my capris and a green tank top and figured I looked good enough. I didn't want to look over the top or anything. Besides, this was James Potter. James Potter.

He rang the bell. This time, thankfully, he didn't have flowers with him. He was, however, wearing the same pair of jeans and the same polo shirt. I don't think he owns many muggle outfits. It did appear, though, that he had scrubbed his trainers in an attempt to look more… I don't know what the word is that I want to insert here.

More neat? More date-worthy? More… Less like James?

Anyways, I let him in and we went up to my room. The paper was just about ready to be written, so I did most of the handwriting while he explored my room.

Yes, you read that right. He explored my room.

I do not know why I let James Potter go through my dresser drawers. He examined my shirts, my old school books, went through pictures of Emmeline, Dorcas, Marlene, and I.

But he just had so many sweet things to say about my stuff.

"I've never seen this shirt before. It would probably look good on you." He said, after he held up a tan blouse that I always thought look hideous.

"You saved all your schoolbooks?"

Well, fine, that wasn't sweet-sounding, but he said it in such an admirable tone of voice! I just wanted to hug him.

I just wanted to hug James Potter. That sounds so weird to say.

He smiled and laughed at all the right pictures, and didn't even comment on the pictures where I had that really awful bob haircut in third year. And that haircut got me teased by everybody in third year. I looked like a walrus that entire year.

The paper didn't take me too long to write, so I was done by the time we had dinner.

As expected, Mother went all out again tonight. We were once again eating in the dining room, although we were having pasta this time. She kept asking James if everything tasted okay, and if he wanted anything else. Which is rather funny, James will eat anything. I've seen him eat a bug on a dare in second year.

I snorted after Mother asked James for the third time about the garlic bread. I think Mom thought I was being as cheeky as I was last meal. She sent me a look over the table.

James and I walked down to the carnival after that. It was only a few blocks away. As usual, it was the same collaboration of cotton candy and lemonade stands. There were a few rides, including a fun house, a Tilt-A-Whirl, a very small roller coaster, and a ferris wheel. There were clowns on stilts, who were actually not that good at balancing themselves. There were swarms of little children eating candy apples and herding their friends and families on towards the next ride.

I sent a look at James. Did he really want to be here? Now that he was finally out of my house, would the teasing begin?

"Let's get ourselves a wristband." He said

Half an hour later, James and I both had a bright orange band around our wrists and we been through the fun house and on the Tilt-A-Whirl. We had walked around the fair twice. James had gotten out a bit of prickiness by attempting to trip that clown on stilts.

"Here, watch this." He had told me, finding a large stick in the shrubbery surround the fairgrounds. Walking very nonchalantly, he dropped the stick directly in the path of the clown.

The clown, paying attention to the children on his left, did not see the stick. The clown kept walking in it's jerky fashion; one leg in front of the other.

The clown fell right over the stick, and landed on a heap on the ground. Unable to get up onto it's stilts, the clown waved it's arms hopelessly, much to the enjoyment of the surrounding children. And of course, James. James laughed louder than anybody. I guess some things never change.

I rolled my eyes at James when he walked back to where I was standing.

"Sometimes, I just can't stand you." I confessed to him.

He smiled that swarmy smile he always does when he knows he's getting on my nerves. I have seen it so many times over the course of our six years together in school.

"Come on, I'll make it up to you." He said, breaking into a run.

"What, where are we going?" I asked, trying to keep up.

Unfortunately, running in flip-flops is never a good idea. I was forced to trail along behind James, as he covered much more ground than me in his trainers.

By the time I caught up, I realized where we were standing. We were in line for the ferris wheel.

"Do you have a fear of heights, Evans?" he asked, chortling slightly.

I looked up at the ride, not even registering that he had called me by my surname. Is being called by your surname a good thing or a bad thing? Last names are never sexy.

"More of a fear about how safe these rides are." I admitted, looking up.

"Well, let's find out."

The next thing I knew, we were sitting on the seat, the bar across our laps. The ride creaked into motion and we were heading for the top of the ferris wheel. I took a deep breath.

"Scared?" James asked, rocking our cart slightly.

"No, stop!" I demanded, looking down at the ground.

"Well, then we should find some other way to entertain ourselves on this ride."

I looked at him puzzled. This was a ride, it was supposed to be the entertainment. What was he talking about?

Then suddenly, he was leaning in towards me, slowly. He put his hand on my shoulder, gently. James looked into my eyes to see how I was reacting.

Numbly, I nodded.

James leaned over me more, and suddenly, our mouths met.

James Potter was kissing me. Me, the girl I thought he loved to tease. The girl I thought he hated. And most of all, I was enjoying it.

I wasn't even paying attention to the distance we were from the ground. I didn't care that the wheel creaked every time it rotated. I didn't even notice that the kids below us were pointing and laughing at us for quite a long time.

Maybe, for once, my parents were actually right.


	6. Dress to Impress

**Monday, September 6th, 1976**

Dear Diary,

I am in a complete and utter state of confusion. Since that one night at the carnival, my communication with James Potter has reached a bare minimum. I'm trying to figure out how to put this into terms that you will understand. Let's just say that we talked more the week in fourth year when he hacked off half of my hair. And I was giving him the silent treatment then.

So what in the world is going on? I mean, he's liked me since second year. And if he didn't like me, he at least conversed with me. And now, just when I am finally beginning to realize and appreciate his personality, he stops caring about me. So I have spent the past two months trying to figure out why there has been such a lack of correspondence.

James says it was because he went to Egypt for a month with Remus' family. Apparently, all of the Marauders, or whatever that group calls themselves, are going on vacation together. And James claims that they were so busy he barely had time to write to his parents, let alone me.

But that is such a crap reason. I've read enough teenage magazines to recognize lies. So, I've come to the conclusion that the truth is such a complicated and warped story that he cannot even bear to tell me.

I must be a horrible kisser. He must have snogged me on that ferris wheel and decided that I have no experience whatsoever. He probably only kept making out with me because he was literally locked onto the ride next to me.

And then, he must have met some girl in Egypt. A beautiful, exotic-looking girl with long, dark, flowing hair and a gorgeous smile and tanned legs and sparkling eyes and… and… an accent! Or maybe he met an American girl. Oh God, if he met an American girl… I hear they give it up all the time. No morals over there.

I wonder if I should confront him about this or just let it go. Maybe this wasn't meant to be; maybe this was fate. Professor Groote claims that relationships are written in the stars, if we can properly decode it. I should go get my divination textbook.

**Tuesday, September 7th, 1976**

Dear Diary,

I never really was much of a divination student. I mean, I can't be. James and I are obviously meant to be. And if my textbook wants to tell me that we are completely incompatible and will lead each other to ultimate demise, then it can just rot in hell.

Thank Heavens Dorcas called me right in the midst of all that before. I was beginning to lose my mind.

"Lily, I cannot believe we are going back to school tomorrow." She said, upon my answering of the phone.

"I know. By the way, I think you're finally beginning to master the telephone, Dorcas. You're not screaming into the receiver like last time!" I told her.

"Hey, hey, don't tease me! It's not my fault I don't come from a Muggle family." She giggled. "But, I'm calling about important matters. What are you wearing tomorrow onto the train?"

I paused for a minute. I hadn't considered any outfits too seriously. I had barely even packed my trunk.

"Probably just jeans and a tank top. I mean, we're going to be putting on our robes anyways, Dorc.'

"I think I might wear this really cute skirt. I mean, like, I have a nice tan. I might as well show it off before I go back to my pale, pasty, English self."

That was Dorcas' obsession. While I obsessed over my flaming red hair, she was preoccupied with her skin tone.

"Okay, you'll have to tell me all about your summer. I've got some stuff to tell you, but I'll save it for when we're all back together!"

"Alright, Lily. Well, I'll see you tomorrow. I've got some homework to finish."

We said our good-byes and hung up.

And then I went over to my closet. Maybe jeans and a tank top just wouldn't cut it if I was dressing to impress.

Wednesday, September 8, 1976 

Dear Diary,

It's pretty late. I'm the only one left in the common room. And I actually don't know whether or not it's past midnight, so maybe I should have dated this entry as Thursday. Everyone else is already in the dorms sleeping, since classes do start tomorrow after all.

But so much happened today that I just had to record everything before I forget.

I stepped onto the platform with my family and there was James, waiting. I didn't think he was waiting for me at first. I figured he was looking for Sirius Black to come over with a cola or something. Maybe Remus Lupin was running a bit late and James was going to show them where they were sitting.

Psshh, no. I am always wrong about these things.

"Lily! How are you?" He said, striding over to me.

"Um… I'm good. How was the end of your summer?" I replied, trying to appear nonchalant.

I pushed my hair back with my right hand. That was such a nervous habit. I bet James knew that, too. I bet he saw me push my hair back in first year when teachers asked me questions and I was scared to respond. I bet he saw me push my hair back when nobody asked me to dance at the Yule Ball in fourth year. I bet he remembers that I was dateless then.

"Yes, we didn't see too much of you these past few weeks, James." My mother put in, with a smile.

"Oh, I went to Egypt with a few of my friends. You should have seen some of the architecture there!"

And James was off and running. A topic that made him sound smart and dignified, yet it was also interesting. My parents were sucked in immediately. And well, even I was sort of impressed by his description of the Sphinx.

But that isn't all. He even picked up my trunk that my father was carrying and stored it properly. He even gave my family some space while we said our goodbyes, before inviting me to sit with him!

"Lily, why don't you come sit with my friends and I?" he said in a charming voice, almost well, princely.

I thought for a second about Dorcas, Emmeline, and Marlene. They would probably be sitting in a compartment, smiling and laughing. Marlene would be touching up her nail polish, Emmeline would be making some last minute adjustments to one of her essays. Dorcas would be trying to copy Emmeline's essay word-for-word.

But I didn't really have time to react. I swear that was it. James just grabbed my hand and I followed him into a compartment on the train. He slid open a compartment door and there were the other Marauders, gathering around a sheet of paper.

They all looked up and glared accusingly at me.

"JAMES! Do you remember anything, you git?" Sirius said. "You're supposed to knock first if you have company."

"Sorry, mate." James replied, after sending me an apologetic glance.

"Hello, Lily." Remus said, sending me a smile.

I smiled gratefully back. I was in quite a few classes with Remus, it was nice that he at least knew my name.

James gestured for me to have a seat.

"Oh, she's staying?" Peter Pettigrew said.

Bastard, I thought to myself. I don't have to take this.

"No, I'm not. You guys obviously have stuff to catch up on."

I headed for the compartment door.

"Lily!" James started, taking a step towards me.

I kept going. I never fit in with his friends. I knew that much. So why did I think things would suddenly change? Why would I even want to hang out with those pricky boys that liked to cause so much trouble?

I stopped in the vestibule between the compartments. Should I go to Emmeline, Dorcas, and Marlene? So much had happened; I really wasn't up for telling them the entire story. I could go hide in the bathroom, but that wasn't really the way I wanted to spend my first day of school.

I looked over my choices. I would have to go tell my friends. They would be supportive no matter what. I took a deep breath, tried to steady myself, then turned to go find them.

Until, however, a voice sounded from inside the Marauder's compartment.

"Jesus, you guys! I like that girl. I like Lily Evans!"

I stopped. Now was not the time to walk away. A person only gets to eavesdrop on conversations like this one once in a lifetime. Not often do you hear a person confess their love for you…when you're not even present.

I stood against the wall with my back as rigid as possible, trying to stay out of view in case any of the Marauders looked up through the glass pane of the compartment door.

"We KNOW that, Prongs." I could hear Sirius say exasperatedly. "You talk about her enough, mate. But we're doing important planning. We can't let anyone overhear. That goes for all of us, even when Lily is the subject at hand."

"I agree!" Peter piped in.

I chanced a look through the pane of the door. Peter had his hand raised, nodding largely. Sirius was staring fixedly at James.

"Go after her. Tell her you're sorry for how we behaved." Remus suggested.

My eyes widened. James was going to come look for me. He was going to discover that I was standing right here in the vestibule of his compartment. I looked around for a quick and easy escape route. There was nowhere to hide. Well, duh, I was on a train. Where was I going to hide?

Finally, I swung open another compartment door and sprinted past large groups of strangers. I could tell that everyone's eyes were focused on me. I could imagine what I looked like, running crazily at top speed without even an offer of an explanation.

After running through about three cars and thoroughly causing a scene in front of some people that definitely knew me, I reached Emmeline, Dorcas, and Marlene.

"Where were you?" Marlene asked, looking up at me. "We saved you a seat and then figured you weren't coming."

"I um, got held up." I responded, running a hand through my hair.

Emmeline cocked an eyebrow. "You're running your hand through your hair, honey. What's the matter?"

DAMN. Why does everyone know what my weaknesses are!

"James Potter." I answered quietly.

That wasn't such a good explanation, I know. But I couldn't start giving detailed reports of my life. Any second now James was going to burst through the compartment door, trying to smooth over any awkwardness his friends had caused me. And I was excited for this. I was excited to see how James was going to handle his friends humiliating me.

James stumbled into the compartment, directly on cue. From the disheveled state of his robes, I had a hunch he had also run through a few compartments, just as I had done seconds before.

"What do you want?" Dorcas asked, icily.

Oh man! My friends were going to treat them the same way they had treated him all last year. You see, we spent the previous years being as rude as possible to James Potter. Any pricky statements, any practical jokes, any casual joking was always directed at James. I had always thought I hated his guts, see, so it made no difference to me whether or not he got teased for his glasses.

"Lily, I'm so sorry." He approached me, ignoring Dorcas' comment entirely.

"No, it's fine. Don't worry about it." I said, watching my friends send me confused looks.

"I want to make it up to you. Can we talk at dinner?" He asked, sending me puppy dog eyes.

I nodded, numbly. James kissed me on the cheek and hurried out.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Dorcas finally said, looking around at everyone in the compartment.

"James just kissed Lily." Marlene answered.

"Well, duh." Emmeline added. "The weird part is that Lily didn't smack him."

I still didn't say anything. What do you say when your friends are already catching on? Was I just supposed to tell them that, yes, I have an extreme obsession with James Potter and I cannot control it no matter how hard I have tried?

"YOU LIKE HIM." Marlene gasped. "You like the boy we spent our entire childhood teasing! You like the boy we've called Egghead for years because his head is oddly shaped!"

I gave my friends a small smile.

"Please tell me you're not wearing the tank top and jeans you said you were going to wear." Dorcas said. "If there was ever a time to dress to impress, it's now."


End file.
